Split sonnet
"I, I, I - first person singular"
(Mercer/Resnais, Providence)
Woke in the early morning, many thoughts:
of Marina, whom I love more than torpid life -
unfortunately, there's a contradiction
there, since I can only have her while there's
life.
I, eye, ear, ere, with a why and a sigh
dying into the featureless horizon.
What I am hanging on to is a thread
in the labyrinth, a twisting frame
that brings me to the hollow heart again,
sucking the vacuum in like manna.
Take it like a man, giving it all away
when the bell rings on the empty street-car
screeching like a bullet down the vapid
avenues
of self. This is the true trajectory:
I billows with the wind and lets it go.
6/11/2012
© Martin J. Walker
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